Climbing Rose, Silent Princess
by vifetoile89
Summary: Their marriage bed was full of ghosts, at first. A poem cycle in blank verse about Link and Zelda's marriage. tl;dr: hurt/comfort leads to super fluffy happy ending.


Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda, and it's possible I've been reading too much Shakespeare.

Warning: this fic does allude to sexy times, but nothing is explicit.

0.

The myths of Hyrule ring again and o'er

With tales of princesses and heroes bold

Who wedded when the Quest was done—of course.

If otherwise, no single story told.

1.

When finally the two were left alone,

The marriage bells had fade-echoed away,

The crowds had gone to whereabouts unknown,

To drink and sing and welcome the new day.

At last within the silence, sweet and dark,

The two of them collapsed upon the bed,

Exhausted from the dancing and the smiling,

And Zelda had a pounding in her head.

She wouldn't look across at Link, at first.

What if his eyes were apathetic blue?

Or else he pitied her, his duty done,

Thought, You're not what I want, but hey, you'll do.

And then a shock. His hand took hers with care,

As if to say, I'm happy that you're there.

2.

She knows he does not love her in return,

At least, not in her way, the kind of love

That overturns the soul, the kind of love

Like roses burning, sure and sweet and bright.

His love for her is more than anything

She's ever known: he knows all of her flaws,

His ears are apt for all she has to say,

Be it so boring or all science-bound.

And he admires her as should a friend,

With warmth, a steady hand, a ready grin—

It is enough to build a marriage on.

At least, she hopes.

3.

Assure the people that the peace was true,

The princess back, the bad times at an end,

These were the reasons that the two were wed,

Not for their hearts, but Hyrule for to mend.

From Lurelin to Tabantha and more

The people strode and swam, they rolled and flew

To see the diamond circlet on the brow

Of Hylia reborn, the goddess new.

And as the folk went home, they thought of roads—

The Sheikah thought of waystations and maps,

The Gorons thought of stone and of repair.

The Rito talked again of message-routes,

A postal service, crisscrossing the air.

Each township took a banner home with them

A sky-blue promise of the days to come.

And goddess statues all across the land

Had offerings of strawberries and rum.

And Zelda thought, 'The first day's work is done.'

4.

Their marriage bed was full of ghosts, at first.

A night did not go by but Link could hear

The footfalls of Daruk, a'keeping watch—

But he was gone, his soul should be at peace,

And yet. A glimpse of whiskey in the sun

Turned into Mipha's eyes, all golden-sweet.

And Zelda could not see a thunderstorm

But hear Urbosa laughing in the air,

The crack and boom of lighting by her hand.

One summer night, a swelter, Zelda woke

At midnight, laughing out Revali's name.

She woke Link up with weeping, whisper-said

She'd dreamt of flight, forgotten he was dead.

The blows of nightmares, memories, and worse;

Their marriage bed was full of ghosts, at first.

5.

Carnality. She reached for him in bed

And kissed him hungrily, a woman starved.

Her prisonment, a century awake

Yet petrified, came back to her in sleep—

She would obliterate it, burn it out—

In heat, sensation, sweat—she was alive—

And he could help her prove it.

To kiss and push, caress and grip and cry

"Oh, fill me, fill me, Link, I need you now—"

And afterwards, he held her.

From thundering their hearts would slow to sleep

And she would wonder. Did Link long for her—

Or vanished Mipha, ruddy as a rose?

Would she conceive a babe (what if she couldn't?)

What parents would they be—and then, what if—

Ah, fuck it. Sleep for now. She lay and breathed

And gradually slept…

6.

They did not live in Hyrule Castle town,

Still barren, still a wreck. In Hyrule Field

A village grew around a steady spring,

The fountain square sufficed, most days,

For royal business Zelda could attend.

At sunset they'd go home, a little house

Of stone, with climbing roses alongside.

Most evenings you'd find Link beside the hearth

Or in the kitchen, testing a new dish.

And Zelda wasn't far, with all her books

And notes—and yes, a kitten on her lap.

Three cats, two dogs, a clamorous affair.

It wasn't til the winter that they came

Reliably to sleep there, every night—

There was no ending of the work to do

To build, to reestablish, and to fight

In every corner of the battered realm.

7.

And yet the work was not completely grim.

Hateno held a winter rite of old,

Almost forgotten, memory slow and cold:

When nights were at their longest, people came

Into the apple orchard 'neath the hill.

And there to light a bonfire and sing

Of apples blooming, growing, cooking up.

They poured out cider on the twisted roots

To toast the trees, and liven up the sap.

And Link became (to his surprise) Emcee,

And led the dancing, toasting, tambourine—

Why not? He knew the way things should be done,

He brewed his cider with a wild tang,

And he could dance all night! Or so he thought.

Before forty-eight hours had elapsed

A dreadful cold had hold of him. Ah-choo!

8.

Asweat with fever, Link passed into dream

Of what his life had been, before the shrine

Of Resurrection, what he had become…

A hundred years ago, remember now-

His hand had found the darkness-sealing sword

And gripped it like a vise.

The sword had thrown all sideways what he knew—

The Champion he was, Hero and Knight.

A hundred years ago his mind had been

Flat-hammered, red hot, like a sword in forge—

A hundred years ago, his soul was struck,

Battered, and melted, cooled into a mold.

His mind was stripped, an arrow for the bow,

And unessential things were cut away

To suit him, to his core, for one sole task:

Protect the princess, save her, fight and kill—

From this, it took a shock almost to death.

It took a century's sleep, forgetfulness

To let him wake again to who he was—

A quiet man who liked to laugh and cook—

And now—and now—Zelda was at his side

Kissing his knuckles, murmuring a prayer,

And in his heart a wave of sunlight broke,

He thought, When I wake up, she'll be right there—

And so he slept, a smile on his face.

The fever turned, his wife knew he'd be well

And breathed at ease again.

9.

Link dreamed, recalled his mother, father gone

A century now—why did it take so long

Remembering? But now it all came back.

His father's home, an ancestral estate,

Was bright and open: only love it lacked.

His father was a knight of ancient stock,

The family fortunes vanished long ago.

A match was set up with the nouveau riche,

The owners of the premier restaurants

Of Castle Town—and that provided her,

His mother, an embarrassment of jewels.

The match conducted like a business deal—

A title for an ample treasury.

And so they wed, Azelma to Pierre,

And not a pint of love between them both.

Link had no siblings; by the time he showed

A stunning promise of his skill at arms

His parents were a matched indifferent set.

Oh, likely both unhappy, but no right

Had they to cast aside their son, a toy

For others to clean up. He got his hugs

From his instructors in the fighting arts,

But their affection had a wary edge:

The little boy was too good with a blade,

He fought as one possessed. He felt their dread;

He was apart, and lonely. Should he fear,

Or should a nightmare wrack his little frame,

There was no one that he could call for help.

He dealt with things alone, and held his tongue,

And when the Sword had claimed him as its own,

He clammed up. If he spoke, it all would come

A-pouring out, his fear, his dread, his dreams,

And that would never do. He must be strong,

And so he took a silence passing strange.

10.

When Link awoke, he knew three things at once:

The day was late, and Zelda was not there,

And he was almost starved. Their patches cat,

Dubbed Farosh, had been keeping watch on him

And now slunk out, as Link got hasty dressed.

He wondered, where was Zelda? And, hold on—

Some voices from the parlor. He went in,

And stared. Arrayed around the roaring hearth

Were guests from all the realm, exuberant

And merry in their chatter. Sidon loomed

And tried to teach Yunobo how to dance

A hornpipe. At their right, watching the scene,

Pikango painted in the window seat. By fireside

Sat Riju, with a kitten on her lap

(That would be Naydra, jellicle and smug)

And her guard Buliara stood at ease.

The princess was in fascinated talk

With fledgling Tulin—clearly making friends.

His parents stood behind. While Teba seemed

Stiff and uneasy (his feathers ruffled some)

His wife, Saki, was sometimes teasing him

But mostly spoke with Zelda. She stood there

Wearing a daisy apron, with her hair

A frazzled braid, and round her feet their cat

Named Dinraal twined, demanding pets.

A tired, laughing Princess-Queen was she.

And in Link's eyes the room was filled with light

And harmony, his heart did skip a beat—

Had spring arrived already? No, it was

As if a seed planted a century past

At last did blossom richly in his sight.

He crossed to her, and took her in his arms

Where she, after surprise, relaxed a bit.

"You're well, you're up! You must be hungry now,"

She said to him. He gave a sheepish smile

And their guests gathered round, all clamoring

To let him know they'd missed him, and come by

To see if he was well—and they brought gifts.

11.

Prince Sidon, with a flourish and a bow

Presented Zelda with three Sanké carp,

Fresh caught that morning, for a hostess gift.

A basket full of voltfruit, closely wrapped

Came next, from Riju. She shyly explained,

"My mother cooked this when I had a cold—

I wrote the recipe here, on a card."

Yunobo had some Goron spice, fresh ground-

He said he liked it on a sirloin roast

Of rock and minerals. Link thanked him well.

Teba and Saki had a covered dish,

And Tulin, very eager, chirped that they

Presented gourmet nutcakes, with a sauce

Of berry coulis, and some clotted cream.

They each remembered how he liked to eat—

He would have blushed, but couldn't stop his grin.

And finally, Pikango stood before

The married couple, and presented them

A painting in a big, watertight bag.

Unwrapped, it showed an abstract map of all

The lands of Hyrule, somewhat stylized

In vibrant color laid. And Zelda knelt

To see the details, sputtering her thanks—

"We'll hang it where we'll see it every day."

"A modest effort," Pikango just shrugged

But he looked pleased. Link said, thoughtfully,

"The fish, and fruit, and spice, can make a meal

To feed us all—we've lots of rice in here—

What do you say?" He looked to Zelda.

She loved the thought, and Link set right to work,

Munching on apples to keep up his verve.

12.

Around midnight the guests were gone away,

With thanks and promises to call again.

The Rito family flew into the stars.

Sidon announced he'd run, so he'd stay warm,

Until he reached the river. Yunobo

Rolled off, towards Death Mountain and away.

Riju and her guard had acquired rooms

At the town's little inn. And Pikango?

He strolled away into the chilly night,

And waved, and seemed certain he'd be all right.

And then they were alone, the two of them,

The married couple, once again at rest

In quiet. Zelda fell into her chair

And hadn't pulled her blanket on her lap

Before Link knelt before her, took her hands.

She asked him what was wrong, he shook his head

And said, "I should have told you long ago,

I love you so much. Words are not my strength—

How can I say—you are so dear to me.

I did not see before, was not aware,

Was not awake. I left you all alone.

I'm sorry." This was all a-stumbling said.

He blushed and pressed her hands onto his cheeks.

And she was stunned. Her joy was slow to wake—

"Mipha?" she asked, and wished to take it back

At once, but had to know—

Link met her eyes and smiled, a bit sad.

He said, "I loved her with a younger heart—

And it was true, I miss her, but she's gone.

She'd want me to be happy. And I think

I loved you then, but could not find the words

Or understanding—but that's in the past.

Zelda, my wife, my dear, I give to you

A rooted love, a love a bit grown-up.

I cannot tell you all you mean to me—

How glad I am that we are man and wife—

But just give me the chance and you will see,

I'll prove it over years, with all my life."

And Zelda could not speak. Her eyes were full

And brimming, and her smile overflowed

With joy. She slid onto the floor with him

And pulled him to a kiss, one slow and deep.

She drew away, and looked him in the eye.

"I love you." There was power in her words

And courage in her gaze. And were they wise?

I cannot say.

To take a century to know your heart

Is maybe foolish, but they took the chance,

The second chance they had, and held it close.

They went to bed, and loved each other. Now

Their homely light was holy, sanctified.

They chose each other, love was conscious now

And given, shared between a man and bride.

It was a miracle; no other how.

13.

Let's turn the page a year. The town has grown.

By accident it even got a name:

The travelers call it "Queenstown." On this night,

The winter singalongs are most robust

Out in the streets, around the fountain. There

By village heart, the climbing-roses home

Does overflow with guests, and light, and sound.

Let's step inside. The year that's gone is here,

All seasons saved, if you know how to look.

The springtime blooms are pressed in heavy books,

The dyes of summer shine in woven rugs.

Barrels of apples, and the cider jugs

Are testament to autumn's harvest days.

And by the fireside, the couple sits—

And in their arms, the best gift from the year:

Their babies, born in late September time.

Zelda is gloating over them; the three,

She hopes, will never be alone

As she was so alone, but rather they

Will love each other, play, be sister-friends.

They share the name of Zelda, each to each—

As from their mum, and her mother before—

But with a special designating name

For everyday. The first, in Zelda's arms,

Is Nyssa, whose old fashioned Sheikah name

Was gifted from Impa, her godmother.

And then Daine, who's sleeping—just for now—

Named for a mage, a friend to wild things.

And Link has Orfea close to his heart.

She fought to live throughout her early days,

And so he named her for a heroine

Who ventured into Death and back again.

His kisses her, and now she squirms and turns,

She wants to be a part of everything.

And Nyssa watches all with open eyes,

And Daine, she kicks in dreams. Another coo

Comes up from Sidon, sitting close at hand.

You'd think he never saw a babe before,

He's so enraptured by the little dears.

Zelda adjusts herself, and looks around.

Three baby girls are taxing, to be sure,

But they've got aunties all across the land—

And uncles, too, as Sidon would insist.

There's help from Queenstown, and then after all,

They have each other, Link and Zelda, now,

Their hearts are open, in each other's hands.

Tonight, their guests are bustling all around—

The mother shall not move a muscle, no,

Not even as a hostess. So she sits,

And takes in all the chatter of the guests

There's so much light. And later there will be

The silence, sweet and dark, at least a bit.

Beneath it all, the woman-queen-and-wife,

She hums a lullaby from long ago.

As Teba, with his wife, prepared to sing

A winter love duet, and Yunobo

Brought out more punch for Impa and for Link;

As Riju took Nyssa, most gingerly,

Then Link did slip his hand into his wife's.

She turned, their eyes did meet, and they were close—

Just for a breath, a moment—but enough.

Outside the walls, the wild grew away,

The healing, sleeping winter carried on,

And let it be this way for all the knights

And princesses, and souls that lose and find.

Amen.


End file.
